


What Blooms in Darktown

by masulevin



Series: Oh, Grey Warden [4]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Drabbles, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 11:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 5,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9321713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masulevin/pseuds/masulevin
Summary: A series of prompts from my tumblr to fill in the gaps in Scars Beyond Counting, starring Anders and Harea Mahariel's relationship. Not in chronological order. To find that, visit thetumblr masterpost.





	1. A Kiss in Lowtown

**Author's Note:**

> Will make the most sense if you read [Scars Beyond Counting]() first. Feel free to pop over to my [tumblr](http://ma-sulevin.tumblr.com/) to discuss more ideas for this ill-fated couple.

Harea paces back and forth in the clinic, moving from one wall to the other and back again, bouncing the screaming Duncan in her arms. Anders can tell from the set of her jaw and her squared shoulders that she’s barely repressing her frustration at the crying baby, but still she moves, trying to soothe him through his teething.

She walks, for hours on top of hours, until Duncan finally falls asleep. She rests against Anders’ table, sighing heavily and looking down at the mage who’s been patiently waiting for the baby to calm down.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and it’s clear in her voice that she’s holding back tears.

Anders looks up at her, looking at her reddened eyes, and stands, leaving behind the potion he’d been preparing. 

He puts his hands on either side of her face, cupping her cheeks, and she closes her eyes and smiles under his touch.

He waits until her eyes open again, waiting for permission. When she arches toward him, he leans down and brushes his lips across hers.

She sighs, almost a moan, and lets go of Duncan with one hand to tangle in his long hair.

Their mouths meet again, harder this time, and she runs her tongue across his lips. He parts them for her, and their tongues tangle together. His hands are trembling as he moves them to grip her waist, leaving her head free to move where she would. 

She’s been thinking about this since before they arrived in Darktown. She’s been thinking about this since they boarded the ship bound for Kirkwall.

His lips are as soft as she’d imagined, and he tastes even better, and she trembles in his grasp.

When she breaks away from him to take a deep breath, he leans in to rest his forehead against hers.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for a long time,” Anders admits with a wry smile.

She sighs softly. “I know.”


	2. Snow on Sundermount

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Snowman. It's rare that snow falls so far north, so when Anders suggests Harea go to Sundermount to take advantage of the weather, she agrees.

“Harea. Harea, come look.”

Harea wakes to Anders sitting on the edge of her bed, shaking her shoulder and whispering with a level of excitement she’s never heard from the man. His eyes are shining down at her when she finally looks up at him, and he moves out of the way as soon as she starts to sit up.

Duncan is still asleep, sprawled out diagonally across the bed on his back, and Harea slips her robe over her nightgown before following Anders out into the clinic.

He takes her right to the large windows along the edge of the building, one hand resting on the small of her back as he guides her into position. He points out over the ocean where she’s delighted to see fat snowflakes falling from the sky.

“Oh, Anders!” she breathes. “I haven’t seen snow in so long. I didn’t think it ever snowed up here.” She beams up at him, and he has to look away as color blooms on his cheeks.

“I don’t think it usually does. Maybe there will be more on Sundermount. Do you want to check?”

“Mythal’enaste, can we?”

He opens his mouth to say he meant for her to go by herself, or even with Merrill, but her hopeful smile freezes his words before they can leave his mouth. He finds himself nodding at her as she claps her hands together, suddenly looking like the 23-year-old girl she is as she runs off to get Duncan dressed.

They arrive on Sundermount while the snow is still falling. A light dusting of it sticks on the ground, barely half an inch, but Harea runs into it with a wild cry of delight. Anders clutches Duncan tighter to his chest as Harea leans down to form a handful of snow into a ball.

She runs back over, holding the snowball out for Duncan to examine. He reaches out to take it, but snatches his hand back immediately as the ice touches his skin. His mouth opens in a silent whine as he looks up at Anders.

“Don’t look at me, buddy.” Anders kisses Duncan’s forehead before turning to grin at Harea. She tilts her head to the side, studying him for a moment, before lobbing the snowball right at his head.

It hit his temple, shattering into chunks of ice and snow, falling all over his face and chest. Duncan reaches up with a grin to grab a chunk of it off of Anders’ nose and immediately sticks it in his mouth to eat.

“How is that fair?” Anders demands, a smile twisting his lips despite his words. “I can’t get you back with your baby in my arms.”

Harea licks her lips before responding. “Don’t you have _magic_ that could help you with that?”

“Oh that’s right!” Anders exclaims. “I forgot about the snowball magic classes they taught us in the circle.”

Harea rolls her eyes but before she can say anything else Duncan starts wiggling in Anders’ arms to get down. Anders sets him in the snow and Duncan takes exactly two steps before falling over on his bottom.

He wrinkles his nose and Harea freezes, waiting to see if he’s going to cry, but he just stands up and grabs handfuls of the snow. He throws it at Anders, hitting the man in the knees, and Harea bursts into giggles.

“Here, Duncan, let me show you how to make a _snowman_. Watch.”

Duncan runs around in circles in the snow, occasionally picking up handfuls to throw at either Anders or Harea as the two adults busy themselves building a tiny snowman out of the thin layer of snow.

When the man is built, Duncan runs over as though to kick it over, but Harea scoops him up in her arms, tossing him into the air and catching him easily. She brings him close to her face and blows a raspberry on his cheek.

The sun breaks through the clouds, illuminating the snowflakes still stuck in her dark hair. She turns to him, laughing, squinting in the sudden brightness, and Anders’ breath catches in his throat.

How can he live with her, see her every day, and not say anything to her? She hasn’t seen her old lover in three years. It’s time.


	3. Time to Pine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: mutual pining.

“Oh, how’s my little man?”

Harea glances over at Anders just in time to see him scoop Duncan out of his little cradle. The baby coos and reaches with fat hands to grab at Anders’ nose, and Harea smiles at the sight. Warmth blossoms in her chest and she looks away, blushing.

“Hnph.” Anders pulls Duncan’s fingers away from his face, grimacing. “You’re a strong one, aren’t you? Like your mama.” The baby gurgles back at him, carrying on his half of the conversation oblivious to the way Anders’ words make Harea’s face heat up.

Anders looks over at where Harea is busy grinding elfroot into powder for his potions and can’t help but smile softly. Her braid is coming loose, tendrils of wavy hair framing her face. She avoids his gaze, but he’s thankful for the moment to admire her without interruption.

When she finally looks up at him, his breath catches in his throat. She grins lopsidedly at him and brushes her hands off before reaching out for Duncan. Anders passes him over, and their fingers brush together. He swallows hard and waits to see her pull away.

She doesn’t, letting their fingers stay together for a long moment before turning away. She kisses Duncan squarely on the nose, before looking up at Anders, cheeks pink.

“How’s Hawke?”

“Oh.” Anders shifts uncomfortably and glances away, wishing for the comfort of her hand against his again. “She’s… fine. She’s planning a trip into the Deep Roads, and she wants me to go with her.”

Harea meets Anders’ gaze with a frown. “The Deep Roads? Will you go?” 

Anders shrugs, but before he has time to say anything, Harea’s on her feet with her hand on his. He freezes, looking down at her, slowly turning his hand over to twine their fingers together.

“Just be careful, okay?” She squeezes his hand, and he can’t even remember what he said to make her touch him like this, but he wants to be able to repeat it whenever he wants. “Promise?”

Harea swallows hard as she waits for Anders’ response. She hadn’t meant to react so strongly, but the thought of losing him… she squeezes his fingers again, and he looks up to meet her eyes.

“Of course,” he murmurs. “I promise.”


	4. Angsty Anders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: pining/unrequited love and only one bed.
> 
> Takes place during [chapter fourteen of Scars Beyond Counting](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8155775/chapters/19516138).

Anders lays awake long into the night. He hears Harea sniffing at one point as she begins to cry, and his heart aches for her. He wants nothing more than to reach over and take her in his arms, but he knows it isn’t him she’s thinking of. It’s never been him. It will never be… him.

When she quiets again, he rolls to face the other direction and tucks the thin blanket under his chin. His bare toes stick out from under the other end of the bed, but he doesn’t mind. He just wants to forget where he is, to forget the beautiful woman laying beside him, to forget the man she longs for.

The man who isn’t him.

He lets his eyes drift shut, visions playing out in his imagination, visions that will never be true. Visions of Harea greeting him with a smile and a kiss when he returns from a day working, of Harea’s child reaching up with chubby arms and calling him _papa,_ of Harea’s body under his, breathing his name instead of _his._

It’s no use. The wanderings of his imagination only bring a familiar ache to his chest, one deepened by the feeling of her shifting behind him in her sleep.

She presses against him, her face in the middle of his back, and one arm slips around his waist. He freezes, body stiffening, as he tries to decide what to do.

This is why he wanted to sleep on the floor. To be so close to her but not allowed to touch…

She sighs in her sleep, softly, just loud enough to bring his attention back to her. One of her feet slips between his legs to rest on his calves, her toes cold against his skin. He shivers under her attentions and curses himself for reacting so strongly.

She doesn’t even think of him. He’s only here because she felt _sorry_ for him. She doesn’t think of him the way he thinks of her.

Harea sighs in her sleep and clutches him tighter, and he gives in to the temptation to let his hand rest over hers. Her face nuzzles against his back and his heart stops when she whispers, “Anders.”


	5. I'd Like it if You Stayed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: "I'd like it if you stayed."

It isn’t a serious illness, but it’s bad enough that Anders orders Harea off of her feet for a few days. She protests, weakly, but the paleness of her skin and the sweat sticking her hair to her face just make him more stubborn.

She gives in.

Bethany comes by to watch Duncan, cooing over the growing baby, while Anders deals with patients in his clinic. In the evenings, he lets Duncan sleep in his bed, curled around his hand.

Harea starts feeling better after a few days, sitting up and eating to regain her strength. Duncan is thrilled to see his mama doing better, laughing and playing with her like he hasn’t seen her in ages.

When he finally falls asleep, tucked against her side, Harea relaxes back on her pillows and looks up at Anders. He hesitates, perched on the edge of her bed, and smiles down at her. He reaches out with one hand and soothes a healing spell over her, relaxing her tired muscles.

“Mmm,” she hums, voice quiet even in the silent room. “Thank you.”

Anders hesitates, again, then shakes his head at some internal struggle and leans down to kiss her forehead. “Feel better, please.”

“Anders?” Harea’s hand shoots out and grasps his as he starts to stand, and he freezes, half standing, to see what she needs. “I…” she stops and licks her lips, clears her throat. “I’d like it if you stayed. Please.”

He blinks down at her, hesitating. He knows he shouldn’t; Justice won’t let him forget. He does anyway, stretching out on the bed beside her. She turns onto her side and cuddles against him, arm draping over his chest.

He lies awake into the night, listening to the quiet sound of her breathing. Justice is a constant refrain, reminding him how dangerous he’s being, but he can’t hear its words over the way his heart sings at having Harea curled up next to him.

This is perfect. It’s all he’s ever wanted.

If only she wanted this all the time too.


	6. A Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: "HA! I found a weak spot on you, didn't I?"

“Please sit still.” Harea taps Anders’ shoulder, admonishing him, and he frowns down at her. She ignores his expression, resuming her work stitching up the wound on his ribs.

“If you don’t like this,” she mutters, “don’t aggravate a templar into Smiting you.”

Anders sniffs, holding his head high. “He didn’t Smite _me_ ,” he says. “He was trying to Smite the abomination and got me by accident.”

Harea rolls her eyes and snips the end of the thread as she finishes the last stitch. “My point is the same. Now you’re going to scar and my stitching skills are _not_ what they were during the Blight.”

She takes a step back and gazes down at her work, frowning critically. The Smite that drained Anders’ mana prevented him from healing the wound on his side; his exhaustion preventing his mana from refilling to usable levels with any speed.

She sighs heavily and stretches out one finger to trace along his ribs, following the line of the sword that almost cut him down. He flinches away from her, and when she looks up he’s barely containing a grimace.

“Anders? Did I hurt you?”

He shakes his head, but the motion is too quick. She narrows her eyes and repeats the motion, drawing her finger along the swoop of his ribs, and he snorts as he pulls away.

Harea’s whole face lights up. “Anders! Have I found your weak spot?” She tries to tickle him again, but he grabs her wrist and stands suddenly.

The shift of movement brings them almost chest-to-chest, Anders towering more than a foot over Harea’s slight frame. Her breath catches in her throat as she gazes up at him, cheeks darkening, but he quickly steps away.

“Don’t do that,” he snaps, though a grin still lights his face. “You’ll make me tear my stitches.”


	7. Real Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: "I think it's about time we stop avoiding the obvious."

“Anders?”

The mage in question looks over at Hawke, eyebrows raised. They’ve both hung back from the rest of the group, giving Bethany and Sebastian some space to walk ahead of them, but he isn’t sure what she has to say to him that isn’t for the rest of their ears.

Hawke purses her lips and glances away from him before working up her courage. “You and Harea…”

“There’s nothing between us,” Anders snaps, cutting Hawke off without hesitation.

She arches one eyebrow. “That’s bullshit and we both know it,” she replies. “It’s time you stop avoiding the obvious. Aren’t you worried about Duncan’s father?”

Anders looks away, back to check their surroundings. His jaw tightens at her question, but he doesn’t speak. His silence answers her question.

“She won’t talk about him,” he says, finally breaking the tense silence that’s grown between them. “I don’t know who he is.”

“There are only so many people it could be,” Hawke points out, not unreasonably. “You didn’t know her during the Blight, but didn’t she travel with another Grey Warden? A man? Isn’t it probably him?”

Anders still refuses to look at her, so she continues.

“I know she’s from Merrill’s clan. Merrill said she wasn’t allowed to stay on Sundermount because the baby’s father is human. But he isn’t you, is he?”

Anders shakes his head, anger blossoming in his chest. “Why does this matter to you?” His voice is low, snappish.

Hawke arches an eyebrow. “I’m just worried about you. You’re letting her live with you, you’re feeding them, you’re paying for everything. I don’t want her taking advantage–”

“She isn’t.” Anders stops walking and turns to face Hawke, planting his staff firmly in the ground. Hawke stops too, blinking at him with a bemused expression. “You don’t know anything about us,” he continues, voice rising enough for Bethany and Sebastian to notice. “You don’t know what we went through together at Amaranthine. You don’t know what she did for me. You don’t know how I feel about her.”

Hawke’s mouth opens and closes once before she finds her words again. “How you feel.”

Anders’ face is bright red, anger and embarrassment warring for dominance. He turns away from Hawke towards the others in their party. He pulls his staff from the dirt and turns to leave. “Don’t accuse her of taking advantage of me before you get to know her,” he mutters.

He begins walking again, leaving Hawke behind.


	8. Another Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: "Kiss me."

They’ve been in Kirkwall for more than a year. Duncan is almost ready to walk. He greets Anders with the same smile he gives to Harea and Anders knows, just knows, he could act as the boy’s father if only Harea would let him.

Anders can’t think of anything else he wants more than to be with Harea, to be part of her family.

They’ve shared a few kisses in the past, always ill-fated things that come right before something pulls them apart.

Anders doesn’t think anything terrible is lurking on the horizon now, though, and all he can think of as he gazes at Harea across the clinic is how her lips feel against his, how her eyes light up when she sees him, the way she leans against him when she’s tired to the point of dropping.

When the clinic closes that night, Harea locks the door behind the last patient with a tired sigh. Duncan plays in a little pen in one corner of the room, happily gnawing on some blocks Hawke found for him from somewhere.

Anders finishes cleaning his worktable and washes his hands before crossing the room to stand by Harea’s side near Duncan. She’s staring down at the little boy with a small smile on her face, and Anders can’t help but mirror it.

When he reaches her, he wraps one arm around her waist and his heart soars at the way she leans into him. She rests her head against his chest and sighs in contentment, happy for once with the way her life is going.

They stand like that for a long moment, watching Duncan play, before she shifts under his touch to look up at him.

“Anders?”

“Hmm?” he looks down at her, eyebrows lifting.

She hesitates, looking away and biting her lip. Anders watches the way her teeth pinch the soft pink flesh and tries to keep his body from responding.

She takes a deep breath, screwing up her courage.

Finally: “Kiss me.”


	9. Justice is Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: “Don’t you say that… not you.”
> 
> This would take place near the end of their relationship.

Anders is… not yelling, not exactly, but his voice is definitely raised. Duncan has long since disappeared into his room, anxious to avoid the way Anders glows slightly blue whenever he speaks of the mages in Kirkwall. Even Harea is a little uncomfortable, but she waits until he calms, sitting heavily in his chair and putting his head in his hands.

When she crosses the room to put her hand on his shoulder, she can feel him trembling under her touch. She strokes his back then runs her hands over his hair, pushing it away from his eyes. He turns toward her, pressing into her hand, and she sighs softly.

“Anders,” she murmurs, grasping his chin and turning his face to look at her. “This is dangerous.”

He pulls away from her, standing, towering over her. She isn’t afraid; she just crosses her arms and stares up at him as he starts to pace.

“You can’t… you can’t say that,” he snaps, hands in fists at his sides. “Not you too.”

She just waits as he marches across the room, heart clenching at his obvious anger. Occasionally his eyes flash at her, a much brighter blue than they should be, but Justice stays away.

Anders isn’t even arguing with her anymore. He’s arguing with Justice.

She just waits, jaw tight, as he winds himself down. When he calms, he returns to her and envelops her in a hug. She wraps her arms around his waist and holds him tight, face buried in his chest.

She can hear his heart beating, too fast, against her ear.

“You need help, Anders.”

He stiffens under her touch, anger rising again. “Harea,” he warns, voice low but not enough to indicate Justice has returned.

She squeezes tighter, cutting off his words.

Maybe she can talk to Hawke.


	10. Fear of the Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: "Nothing's ever scared me more than being with you."

Harea wakes up slowly, blinking in the dim light of her room.

Except. She blinks again, taking a deep breath as her memory starts coming back to her. She turns, just her head, to see a shock of blond hair across a pillow, soft lips parted in sleep.

When he feels her moving, Anders shifts in his sleep to close the space between them. His arm stretches across her, wrapping around her waist and pulling her flush against him. 

She allows herself to relax in his arms, the warmth of his body lulling her back to sleep. He shifts again, pressing closer, the tip of his nose tracing along the sensitive shell of her ear.

She shivers, face flushing, and pulls away. Anders wakes when she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, reaching for leggings discarded on the floor.

He sits up and rubs his hands over his face before he reaches out and puts his hand on the center of her back. The warmth of it is heavy against her, and she stills, waiting as he joins her.

“Harea?”

She scrubs her eyes with the back of her hand and stands to dress. 

“What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t look at him until she pulls her tunic back over her head and yanks her tangled hair out of her collar. When she finally meets his gaze, there are high points of color on each of her cheeks.

“I have to check on Duncan.”

Anders stands and reaches for her, resting his hands on her shoulders. When she doesn’t pull away, he moves one hand to cup her face. “Duncan’s fine, Harea,” he says, voice low. “What’s wrong?”

She inhales deeply then lets out a shuddering breath. “I’m scared.”

His face falls. “Of me?”

She shakes her head and steps into his embrace, resting her head on his chest. “Not of you. Just… of being with you. I… I want to, but…  nothing has _ever_ scared me more than being with you.”

Anders closes his eyes against the tears that prick at his eyelids and bends down to kiss the top of her head.

She needs to feel comfortable. He can wait.


	11. Healing the Healer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: A situation where Anders is sick and Harea doesn't know how to take care of him."

“You gave me your cold.” Anders’ voice is accusatory, indignant, but Harea just shoots him an amused glance from across the clinic as he scowls. “I can’t stop sneezing.”

Harea raises an eyebrow. “You’re the one who insisted on giving me a kiss the other day,” she reminds him, voice too busy hiding her laughter to pretend to be sympathetic. “I told you I was still sick, but _no_ , you just had to kiss me.”

He snorts, but the noise makes him start coughing into his handkerchief. The sound of phlegm rattling in his lungs does make Harea pause in her mockery and look at him in concern, but he quickly calms. 

“Should I make you some tea?” She closes the distance between them, a frown making her forehead wrinkle. “I don’t… I don’t think a healing potion would help? But if you want, I can make you one of those poltices you put in hot water to make the steam smell funny?”

She’s finally at his side, and she reaches out to place the palm of her hand over his forehead. He doesn’t feel too warm, but he leans into her touch anyway as she continues rattling off different ways to help ease his symptoms.

He silences her with a soft hand on her free one, squeezing her fingers until she looks him in the eyes. “I’m fine, Harea,” he says. “You don’t have to fuss over me so much.”

She blushes, tanned skin darkening even as she narrows her eyes at him. “I just don’t know how to help you.” Her voice is almost a whine, her lips twisting almost into a pout, and Anders smiles softly at her despite the way his sinuses are making his head ache. “You’re always so helpful. I just… I want to help you too.”

Anders wraps his arms around Harea’s shoulders, tucking her tightly against his chest. She rests her head against his shoulder and sighs, snaking her hands around his waist to rest against his back.

“You do help me,” he murmurs, voice hoarse from coughing, “just by being here.”


	12. Behind a Closed Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: The way I said I love you: muffled, from behind a closed door.

Duncan is screaming. It’s not really that unusual of an event, but the tears welling in Harea’s eyes are what’s inspiring Anders’ concern. He tries to take the baby from her, but she refuses him, glaring over the top of Duncan’s head.

She paces back and forth in the empty clinic, trying everything in her power to calm her son. It doesn’t work, and her pace quickens. She bounces Duncan in her arms, walking faster, her eyes alternating between glaring at the floor and staring at the ceiling as she wears a circle in the floor.

Anders tries to take the baby again, but she refuses, shaking her head hard enough that some dark strands of hair escape their braid. 

She wipes her eyes on her sleeve and pushes past him disappearing into the little room she and Duncan share. Anders follows her, trailing in her wake until the door slams in his face, pushed by the heel of her foot.

He can still hear Duncan crying just on the other side of the door, and he rests his head against the wood. “Harea, let me help,” he pleads, all but begging.

She ignores him, and he closes his eyes.

“I want to help,” he repeats, voice growing quieter with each word. “I… I love you.”

She doesn’t hear over Duncan’s wail.


	13. Kissing Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Harea celebrate Kirkwall's favorite holiday.

Duncan’s little hands patting Harea’s face rouse her from her slumber. She blinks away ghostly images of darkspawn fighting behind her eyelids and smiles at her son, pressing a kiss to his open palm before sitting up. He coos, stretching his arms out for Harea, and she lifts him as she climbs from the bed.

Their morning routine is simple, the same every day, and when they’re both clean and dressed, Harea carries him out into the main room of Anders’ clinic.

Anders is already tending to a patient, the blue light of his magic glowing in the dimly-lit room. He glances up when he hears Duncan’s chattering and smiles at Harea. She grins back, face heating slightly. Whatever’s been growing between them since Amaranthine feels new, tender, and she turns away before he can see her blush.

She sets Duncan down in the little playpen she and Merrill built together, just an out-of-the-way corner with a few toys and blankets softening the stone floor, and he pulls himself up on the low wall to watch as she moves to boil water for tea.

Dimly, she can hear Anders giving advice to whichever Lowtown resident dragged themselves in so early in the morning, then the sound of water splashing as Anders rinses off his hands.

“Good morning.” His voice low in her ear makes her smile, and she leans back as he wraps his arms around her from behind. She relaxes against him, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head, right in the middle of her dark hair. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?” Harea perks up, turning to look at him. Duncan gives up on waiting and lets himself fall to a sitting position before crawling towards one of the toys Hawke bought for him. “What’s the occasion?”

Anders grins at her but doesn’t answer as he crosses the room to his desk. He opens the top drawer and pulls out a single red rose, biting the inside of his lip before turning back to her. Her eyes land on the flower immediately, her breath catching in her throat as she remembers the only other rose she’s ever been given.

“Anders?”

He holds the flower out to her with a smile, and she takes it with trembling fingers. “Happy Kissing Day, Harea.”

She lifts the delicate petals to her nose and breathes deeply, trying to wash away the old memory with this new, happy one. She smiles up at Anders, but tilts her head to the side. “Kissing Day?”

He nods, still smiling proudly at her. “It’s a Kirkwall tradition.”

“Is it?” She wrinkles her forehead. “I don’t remember it from last year.”

“You’d just had Duncan,” Anders points out, correctly remembering the way Harea stayed in her little room for as long as possible after giving birth, and then never venturing out of the clinic for weeks. “And… well, this year, I thought we could celebrate it together.”

Harea’s eyebrows knit together. “I… is this like All Hearts Day? I didn’t get you anything. I didn’t know…” she trails off with a frown, turning away from Anders to find something that can pass as a vase for the flower.

Anders stops her with long fingers on her chin, turning her head until she’s looking up at him. “You don’t need to get me anything,” he says. His thumb strokes over her lower lip, inspiring another blush to darken her cheeks. “Though… it _is_ called _Kissing_ Day…”

He leans into her, and she stretches up on her tiptoes. Together they close the distance between them and their lips meet softly. His are always chapped, a little dry, but hers are soft, and he chases them when she starts to pull away.

She relaxes into him, grasping his loose robes with her free hand. He sighs against her, lingering over the last kiss before finally releasing her. He grins down at her and kisses her forehead before he steps away, giving her room to turn back to their little kitchen.

He scoops Duncan up in his arms, tossing him into the air, inspiring a squealing laugh from the toddler. Harea glances at them over her shoulder as she grabs an empty potion flask to hold the rose. She puts water in the vial and takes it over to the window to sit on the counter on that side of the room.

She stares at the flower in the dusty light and reaches out to touch its petals with one finger.

She turns back to Anders and smiles. “Thank you.”

He catches Duncan again and turns around to look at her. “You’re welcome.”


	14. Desperation

“Please,” Anders begs, tears already gathering in his eyes as he tries furiously to blink them away. “You must listen to me, I–”

“Stop!” Harea cries, voice almost shrill in her desperation for him to hear her. “Just stop! I am _so tired,_ Anders. You have _no idea_.” She holds her hands up, palms facing him to keep him away. “You have to let. It. Go.” She punctuates each word with a scowl, and she turns away from him.

He reaches out for her but thinks better of it before his hand touches her arm. He dances around to stand in front of her again, dropping to his knees to show the smaller woman that he isn’t a threat, that he won’t try to stop her if she truly means to leave.

“Okay,” he breathes. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Harea.” She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at him, physically shaking with anger. “Don’t go. I’m sorry. Please.”

Harea inhales slowly, taking a long breath in through her nose, and lets it out in a sigh. She looks away from him, suddenly blinking back her own tears, and her shoulders slump as her anger begins to dissipate.

Anders does reach for her then, hands on her elbows to pull her forward. Even kneeling he’s not much shorter than she is, and it’s an easy thing to bring her lips to his.

His kiss is hard, nearly too hard, full of his desperate longing to keep her from spending a night in the alienage with Merrill, as she had threatened, or with Hawke in her estate. He begs her silently, clutching her tightly, and after only a moment he feels her body relaxing under his touch.

She moves so that her arms are free, hands coming up to rest on his jaw, tilting his head more so she can kiss him back, more gently this time. Her desperation is of a different flavor, of a longing for things to be like they were before things in Kirkwall had become so dangerous.

She breaks the kiss but holds his head still so that she can place a gentle one to his forehead before pulling him against her for a hug.


	15. Forgotten

He feels it before she acknowledges it. He can tell that it’s coming, but he isn’t sure what to do about it, or even if he _should_ do anything about it. He just watches as she pulls farther and farther away, growing quieter, more withdrawn. Not cruel or angry or anything else he might expect, just… less.

Less of herself, less of the woman he fell in love with so many months ago in Amaranthine.

She turns to Duncan more and more, sitting with him as he sleeps, telling him stories of her gods that she’s never shared with Anders, brushing his auburn hair away from his face with an expression that clearly says she sees someone other than just Duncan.

She sees Duncan’s father, and she doesn’t look at Anders the same way.

She sleeps by his side less and less.

He’s being forgotten.

He knows he is, but he doesn’t know what to do.


End file.
